


Steel

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vampires, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Link finds a rather unusual sword during the Blood Moon.





	Steel

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He sits on the bed in the little cabin deep within the snowy mountains, staring at the strange grey man that’s coalesced before him. The man has no more right to he cabin than Link does, but he looks completely confident as he paces around its tiny confines, waiting for Link’s answer. His white-gloved hands trace the dusty table, purple-rimmed eyes grazing the shield hung above the empty fireplace. The cabin is abandoned, like many of the structures Link’s found in remote areas of Hyrule, though an open book on the bedside table boasts more information from the rumour mill. It was following one such hint, at the very height of this current Blood Moon, that he came across the sheath resting in his lap. His fingers tighten around the leathery material, his eyes following the man’s graceful steps. _Ghirahim_, he’d said, _Or whatever you wish to call me, Master._ A shiver had run down Link’s spine at the way the spirit breathed the title. Link still doesn’t know what to think.

It’s certainly not the strangest thing he’s come across in his travels. But it’s definitely up there. Ghirahim’s slender hips sway as he does a sharp turn by the fireplace and wanders back over, coming to rest against the table. His pointed red cloak, covered in a bright yellow-black checkerboard pattern on the inside, finally falls still in the absence of his movement. His colourless hair, sharply cut to cover one eye, slips across his forehead and lands neatly in place. His pale lips stretch into a sly grin, and he asks, “Well? Have you made your decision?”

Link looks away. He has, but he can’t help but feel it’s the wrong one. Something about this spirit just screams _wrong_, even though it’s been nothing but polite to him. _Too_ polite. And too suggestive. The way Ghirahim keeps licking his lips with an impossibly long tongue has Link squirming. When Ghirahim leans back against the table, his hips jut out. The crimson evening light filters through the icy windows to gleam over the diamond-shaped cutouts in Ghirahim’s tight pants. He’s trim but well built, every bit as toned as Link, and his small figure screams of _power_. He’d be a formidable ally. He’d be a much worse weapon.

He coos, “Come now, it isn’t a difficult decision. I’m the only weapon in all of Hyrule that will never break on you. Isn’t that fantastic?”

Link’s not sure he believes it. He has faint, nagging memories of another sword, hidden deep within a gorgeous forest. But he’s yet to find that forest, and Ghirahim’s right in front of him. Ghirahim purrs, “I’ll never lose my edge. I’ll never dull. I’ll never leave you helpless and waiting... and all you have to do in exchange...” Ghirahim pushes forward, coming closer to cup Link’s chin and force his eyes up. Link’s breath hitches, his heart racing as he locks with Ghirahim’s dark eyes. Ghirahim finishes in a husky whisper, “...Is give me a little taste.” His tongue darts out, swiping the side of Link’s cheek. He wrenches a way, breaking Ghirahim’s hold. 

He’s breathing hard. Ghirahim doesn’t back away, just stays there, bent over him, smirking in wait. Ghirahim doesn’t repeat the offer. Link knows what he wants. It doesn’t seem so awful a trade. He’s lost blood all over this quest. It’s the way that Ghirahim will take it that gives Link pause. 

But the quest is everything. Calamity Ganon’s waiting. _Zelda’s_ waiting. And Link could use something as strong and sturdy as Ghirahim. 

And Link’s _lonely_, tired and sore and thus too easily swayed. After a long moment, he nods for all the wrong reasons. 

Ghirahim chuckles happily as he climbs into Link’s lap. The sheath is shoved tight up against Link’s stomach, Ghirahim’s knees spreading around him. Ghirahim tilts Link’s head aside, brushing a few stray golden strands away. A chaste kiss falls across Link’s throat. He tenses, breath caught in anticipation. 

The fangs come and pierce into his skin. He _screams_, the pained shriek echoing off the wooden walls. Ghirahim sinks deeper, presses closer, flattens into Link like he’s going to make them into _one_. Link can feel his life force slowly trickling away. 

But Ghirahim jerks out a second later. There’s a wet, sickening squelching noise and the warm ooze of blood around the wound. A few licks of Ghirahim’s tongue, and the hole starts sealing. Link lifts his hand to feel it, smearing the left over droplets but finding no injuries. The area tingles, and his cheeks are hot, his body shaken. But it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t long. He can certainly handle it. Ghirahim laps at his own lips, looking wholly satisfied. 

He purrs, “You won’t regret this, Master.” And then he’s gone, a silver sword clattering into Link’s lap. It’s polished edge glistens exquisitely in the dying light. It’s certainly the most beautiful of all of Link’s equipment. 

Still breathless, Link carefully sheathes the blade. He’s already changed his mind about the wisdom of his decision. With Ghirahim in his hands, he’s never felt so unstoppable. 

He rises up and faces the doorway, ready for anything else the Blood Moon has to show him.


End file.
